


Just Married

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Accidental Sex, Arguing, Barebacking, Bisexual Character, Blowjobs, Drunk Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Irresponsible Sex, M/M, Pining, Rough Sex, Tropes, discussions of consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:16:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2232072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a wild night, Chris and Zach wake up in bed together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Married

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a [prompt](http://pintokinkmeme.livejournal.com/1138.html?thread=332402#t332402) at the pintokinkmeme, but it doesn't actually follow the prompt, so I'm posting here instead. But credit where credit is due. Thanks, anon!

Chris makes a face as sunlight hits his face. "What the fuck," he mutters, because no. It is way too early for the sun to be up. His head is throbbing and his mouth tastes like ass. He squints against the harsh light, scowls at the open curtains that he must have been too drunk to close last night.

Fuck, he hates himself right now. Stupid Cho and his suggestion to take a shot every time Kirk looked at Spock with soulful eyes on a television show cancelled almost fifty years ago. And stupid Karl for the twelve thousand episodes he brought to Chris' house and refused to turn off.

They were just supposed to be enjoying each other's company, not getting drunk off their faces. Stupid, fucking Karl Urban. He makes a face at nothing in particular and turns away from the sunlight.

And freezes.

Because that is not—

No fucking way.

Zach is not in his bed, as naked as far as the eye can see. Which is all the way down to the top of his ass. Enough skin showing to make Chris' heart pound—and not at all in the pleasant way that accompanies all the fantasies he's ever had about a scenario like this.

No fucking way.

Chris takes stock of his own naked body, the sticky, crusty feel of cum matting his pubes; and the twinge when he clenches his ass.

"Holy shit," he whispers; to no one. Because Zach is asleep. Zachary Quinto is naked _in his bed_.

Just to be sure it's not some drunken trip, Chris shuffles over, careful not to jounce the bed, or do anything that might disturb him. He can feel the damp heat from Zach's body; he doesn't smell great.

Chris probably smells worse.

He peers over Zach's shoulder, and it's something like slow motion as his brain takes it in. The stubble, the sweep of his dark eyebrows, shorn meticulously for Trek, and his forehead…

Chris' breath catches in his chest. He stares at the thick black lines on Zach's forehead. Before he gets a coherent look—because absolutely fuck no, it can't say what he thinks he says—Zach mumbles sleepily and rolls away, mashes his face into the pillow.

Forgetting that he doesn't want to wake him up, Chris stabs at his shoulder. It has no effect. His heart beginning to beat a panicked tattoo, he shakes him. " _Zach_. Wake up."

Zach groans into the pillow. "Chris?" he mutters, words slurred with sleep. "What are you doing here?" He drags the sheet up around him and curls in on himself. "Go away."

Chris shakes him again, with enough purpose that Zach aims a quick scowl at him before pulling the sheet tighter.

"What the hell, Pine?" he grouses. "Get out of my bed."

"It's _my_ bed," Chris retorts, brain not entirely with the problem at hand. He grabs Zach's bicep and tries to wrestle him back around, which is mostly a failure so he leans over, desperately hoping the marker isn't really there.

It is.

**Just Married.**

And it's in Chris' own handwriting.

"Oh my god," he whispers, and then again, louder and yanks hard enough that Zach has no choice but to come with him.

"What is your _problem_?" Zach snaps. "Jesus, Chris, why are you even in—"

"Shut up," Chris talks over him, voice gaining volume—and possibly hysteria. "Just shut up and tell me we didn't. Just tell me we didn't."

"Didn't what? What are you…" He trails off and then his mouth shuts abruptly. "Oh my god…" He jerks up, and it should be funny the way he clutches the sheet to his chest, but it's not. "Are you _naked_ under there?"

Chris fights against the heat climbing up his neck. "You have marker on your forehead."

Zach's face twists in confusion. "… what?"

"Marker," Chris says through his teeth, head throbbing on each syllable. "On your fucking forehead."

Zach's hand smacks at his forehead, and just looks even more confused. "Why do I have marker on my forehead?"

"Because someone wrote _Just Married_ on your face, and this better be Cho's idea of a joke, or…" But he has no helpful threat, and Zach's staring at him like he has three heads.

"Please tell me we didn't get married," he says, eyes round and justifiably terrified. He fumbles with the covers, doing a poor job of wrapping his lower half—and he _is_ completely naked—and stumbles to the bathroom, where he squints in growing horror at his reflection. "We did not get married," he eventually mutters. "I wasn't that drunk."

"Your face tells a different story," Chris retorts. Zach turns slowly, expression comical in its horror. Except this is not funny. Not even a little. Zach doesn't even know he has feelings for him. Has no clue. And now Chris has gone and written those feelings all over Zach's face.

"But you don't actually remember getting married…" Zach asks, shorn eyebrows scrunched with worry. "… do you?"

"Do _you_?" Every word is coming out sharp and Zach finally frowns.

"No, I don't, Chris." There's an edge there now too. "But I obviously didn't draw on myself—"

"Maybe Cho did it. Or Simon. His stupid pranks—"

" _This_ —" Zach stabs at his forehead. "—is your writing, Pine."

It sounds too much like an accusation, so Chris snaps back, "And you're such an expect on my handwriting?"

"I've known you forever, Chris, so yeah, I'd say I have some idea."

"Well, good for you, then. This doesn't help, you know—"

"It would help if you could remember," Zach points out.

"It would help if _you_ could remember!"

"Well, I can't," Zach retorts. "But _this_ is a good clue that you must have been fucked out of your mind."

"Me?" Chris echoes. "What about you? I didn't just draw random shit on your head while you were sleeping!"

"And how do you know that?" Zach's face is scrunched up, red; Chris has rarely seen him look so furious. "Maybe you did. Maybe that's exactly what you did. Who knows what kinds of depraved shit you're into?"

Chris stares at him. "Did you seriously just imply I would coerce you into sex when you were drunk?"

"Your words, not mine," Zach's voice is cutting, nasty; it makes Chris' stomach clench, his face growing hot with anger.

"What the fuck, Zach? I would never do that."

"Oh, I know," Zach drawls. "You're not gay. Good for you, Chris. Why don't you just get the hell out of here?"

"This is _my_ house!"

"Fine," Zach spits. "Fine. Then let me get out of your _precious_ house."

"I'm not stopping you."

Zach's mouth opens and closes and then squeezes so tight, his lips turn pale. He marches out of the bathroom, swiping pants and shirt from the floor, although Chris isn't sure they're actually his. He leaves without putting them on and slams the door behind him.

Chris stares at it, chest heaving. His face feels like it's on fire, his head pounding out each heartbeat. What the entire fuck just happened?

It isn't as though accidentally marrying Zach was on his to do list either, but for god's sake, did Zach _have_ to be that freaked out over it. That's why annulments were invented. Although, the fact that they apparently had _sex_ afterward might disqualify them.

They had sex.

It makes Chris feel light-headed.

Groaning, he squeezes his temples and has a moment of overwhelming gratitude that they're not filming today. First step, figure out if they actually did get married, because even with the sharpie announcing it across Zach's forehead, it doesn't seem possible. If they did, the sex thing is going to be the least of their problems.

Do they even let drunk people get married? And there must be some kind of waiting period… or something.

Where the hell do you even get married in the middle of the night?

His head spinning with more than just the massive headache—and the urge to throw up repeatedly—Chris carefully gets out of bed; his ass is not appreciative of the maneuver. Not that Chris normally objects to rough sex… with people who actually like him, though. That always helps.

He ignores the unease in his stomach and stares at the chaos around him.

Zach's underwear is still on the floor. His own is hanging like a flag from the doorknob. Both of their phones are on the nightstand—how conscientious of them, Chris thinks sourly. Zach's wallet is tangled in the sheet; the credit cards spilled across the carpet

Chris spies the sharpie too; in the middle of the floor, the cap nowhere to be seen. He stares blankly at the smudge beneath the tip, but only floating memories surface.

_Zach's giggles when Chris nudged his thigh with a foot, both of them sprawled on the couch._

_"That's my dick," Zach whispering like a secret, and Chris saying something about basic anatomy._

_A hot hand over his crotch, squeezing._

Chris' face warms as the memory comes into focus. His strangled moan, and the way he lifted his hip to get more contact. At the time, neither one of them was complaining.

\---

It's hours later when Chris pulls up to Zach's house. The idiot went all day without his phone and wallet. His keys, Chris figured out, were on the table by the door where Zach always puts them when he comes over.

Chris found the sheet dumped on the floor when he finally emerged from his room after showering and putting in phones calls to multiple people. Chris had kicked at the lumped sheet, annoyed and hurt in somewhat equal measures—more hurt, if he's being honest.

Seriously, why did Zach have to be such an asshole about it?

Double the asshole, since he didn't even come back for his things. He probably thinks Chris will just bring them tomorrow; they have an early call. Which he might be better off doing, actually.

Zach has to know the facts, by now. After all, he has lawyers and people and resources too. And if Chris got it sorted, then so can he.

And yet, it's Chris who is climbing up Zach's steps like a puppy retrieving his master's newspaper. God, sometimes, he doesn't even know how the two of them manage to be friends.

Probably because most of the time, Zach's seriously one of the best friends he's ever had. And just because Chris has a huge, unrequited crush on him, this changes nothing. At least not for Chris.

Resigned to the icy chill he figures is coming his way, he presses the doorbell. He can hear Noah's deep bark. The porch light turns on, then Zach's deep voice ordering the dog to sit.

The door opens a second later and Zach appears, no longer decorated with permanent marker, but with hair in disarray and dark shadows under his bespectacled eyes. "Jesus, Zach," Chris mutters. "You look like shit."

As opening lines go, it's probably not his best choice. Zach stiffens, his fingers tightening their grip on the door. Before it can get slammed in his face, Chris holds out the wallet and phone. "You left these."

Some of the strain leaves Zach's face. He takes his things back; carefully, Chris notices, so they don't touch. "Thanks."

They stare at each other for way too long. Zach doesn't invite him in. Noah's tail is wagging against the wood, probably wondering why Chris isn't offering his face for kisses.

He shoves his empty hands in his pockets. "So… we didn't get married."

Zach pushes out a breath. "I know." It's heavy and awkward, where Chris expected relief.

He only planned for ice and relief, so he just nods. "Um…" How to bring up the sex they can't remember having? "About… the other stuff?"

Zach closes his eyes. "What about it?"

"Well… I mean, I just want you to know I'm clean. Because, um, I didn't find a condom, so…" His face is flaming. Zach opens his eyes.

"Oh." His cheeks are nearing a match to Chris'. "Um. Me too." He waves an awkward hand. "If you need… details, I can—"

"No, that's okay," Chris says quickly. "I trust you."

The muscles in Zach's face twitch, but he nods. "OK. So, look… I overreacted. With what I said… about you taking advantage."

Raising his eyebrows, Chris says evenly, "That's not even in the vicinity of an apology."

Zach swallows, nods. "You're right. I'm sorry. It was way over the line."

"Yeah, it was."

Zach looks away for a second, nodding when his eyes find Chris' again. "I'm sorry."

"You said that already," Chris points out, smiling a little because maybe they'll be fine. "What was that whole thing anyway? I mean the sex thing is awkward, but… um, I'm not actually straight if that helps." Which, no, how can it?

"Just because you have sex with a guy, Pine, it doesn't mean you're gay."

"If you enjoy the sex, Quinto," Chris echoes in the same condescending tone, "I'm pretty sure that's exactly what it means."

Zach makes a pained face.

"Seriously," Chris cuts him off, "don't do this."

The superior lines smooth a little. "What?" He even looks genuinely puzzled.

"Your little you're a bug and I can squash you routine. I'm not straight, and if you need names for proof, then you're an asshole."

That shuts him up; for about half a second. "So… you're bi?"

"Let me guess, that's a problem too?" Chris demands, not sure where the edge is coming from, except sometimes…

"Hey, don't put words in my mouth."

"Well, _is_ it?"

"No, it's not," Zach snaps. "You can fuck whoever you want." His nose scrunches up when he realises what he said. It's another long moment of both of them trying to figure out where to look.

"So, this is awkward," Chris finally tries. It falls flat. "Well," he tries. "It was good. What I can remember…"

That doesn't help. Zach's neck is mottled red.

"Hey, look," Chris says, quickly before anything can be said that Zach may or may not regret, "it was just sex, right? I mean, we don't have to let it be weird or anything."

"Oh sure," Zach agrees, with a fair amount of sarcasm, "because friends have sex all the time without any negative repercussions."

Chris tilts his head, studying his friend, and feeling like he's seeing him for the first time. "Is that what set you off? You were afraid it would fuck up our friendship?"

But Zach's gone taut all across the shoulders again. "I wasn't _afraid_ , he says stiffly.

"No, really," Chris teases, "that's sweet."

Zach is trying hard not to be amused as he mutters, "Fuck you, Pine."

"You already did that."

Zach's face stiffens again, and Chris almost regrets it. "Too soon for jokes?" he asks, trying for wry and possibly succeeding. Zach doesn't look so much like he'd like to be skewered between the eyeballs. "We could pretend it didn't happen?"

Zach sighs, makes a face that seems almost normal. "We can't pretend it didn't happen."

"Okay," Chris says equitably, hiding his relief because he has so much practice. "So… can I come in?" Leaving Zach to stew about this feels like a really bad idea; by tomorrow, he probably won't be able to look Chris in the eye. "Come on, we can watch a movie or play scrabble and I can let you win—"

"You do not let me win," Zach interjects, heatedly, just like Chris knew he would. He realises he's been played too; rolls his eyes. "Fine," he grumbles. "You can come in."

"Wow, Zach, thanks so much," he drawls as he steps inside. He finally gets his puppy kisses, but just for a second before Zach calls off Noah, ruffles him behind the ears and sends him off to his pillow; to which he goes without complaint.

Zach slides his hands into his pockets and looks excessively awkward. Chris ignores all the nerves fizzing in his own stomach and punches Zach's bicep gently. "Come on, man, it's totally fine. Haven't you ever fooled around with a friend?"

Zach makes a sour face at him. "Not my straight friends, no. It tends to scare them off."

"But I'm not straight."

"Yeah, well, until this morning, I didn't know that."

They both fall silent again, Zach's face pinched. And Chris has to wonder…

It's probably stupid of him, but he asks anyway, "Is it something you thought about before? Me and you?"

"You were straight."

"I was never straight."

"I thought you were."

And Zach still hasn't answered the question. "Did _you_ think about us?" he asks before Chris can point that out.

To lie or not to lie. He briefly debates the consequences of both, and settles on truth. With a deep breath to steady himself. "Yeah."

Zach's neutral nod is not helpful at all. "Why didn't you say something?" 

"Um, because we work together?" That's not really why, although the thought of awkwardness spilling over into tomorrow is pretty overwhelming. "And because you never showed any interest…"

"I thought you were straight, Chris."

He says it like an accusation. Chris frowns at him. "I don't know why though. I mean, I'm pretty sure I told you I had a crush on Karl."

Zach rolls his eyes. "So does Simon, and I know _he's_ straight." A pause, with a frown attached. " _Do_ you have a crush on Karl?"

"If you're asking me if I would object to _Karl_ waking up naked in my bed—"

"Chris…"

He sobers up. Zach is agitated, fingers balled up in his pockets; Chris can see their outlines. "I don't have a crush on him," he answers honestly. " _You_ though?" He pretends his face isn't flaming, that there is no possibility of rejection or regret. "Yeah. "

Zach swallows, nods carefully. "What about now though?" he asks quietly. "After that… last night…"

"Zach, we were drunk. Presumably, everybody had fun."

"Yeah, but—"

"But what?" Chris echoes, torn between laughter and annoyance. "Why else would we do it? For god's sakes, one of us had the bright idea to write _just married_ on your forehead—"

"We were watching _Friends_."

Chris' face scrunches as he thinks about that. And he does vaguely remember Ross and Rachel… the Vegas episode. "Friends with benefits," he says before he thinks about it. They stare at each other, Zach's cheeks picking up color as they both remember.

"Marriage benefits," Chris sighs, echoing Zach's words from last night. They'd both giggled helplessly at that. And Chris, with the marker hovering over Zach's forehead ecstatic, _Now we can fuck whenever we want_. "God, we were drunk off our asses."

"See?" Zach says, gesturing without any purpose as far as Chris can tell. "If we were that drunk—"

"Well, we're sober right now. And I just told you I like you, so basically I'm standing here with my balls hanging out waiting for you to crush them."

Zach's lips twitch.

"What?" Chris demands.

Zach shakes his head though, and it's like one of those dream moments; when you're desperate not to wake up. He closes the distance with two steps, and Chris' reaction is automatic, the way he tilts his head that bare inch.

When their lips meet, it's a sense memory. Hands sliding up Zach's sleeves, curling at his shoulders while Zach cradles the back of Chris' head; the way his fingers thread through his hair.

He knows the steps, even if he can't remember all of them. And it's good, nothing like he thought it would be. Zach's kisses are gentle, tentative in a way that makes Chris warm.

"All right?" Zach asks quietly when they pause; his hands are still soft in Chris' hair, and Chris can't help his smile as he leans back in.

He lets his hands wander down Zach's back, doesn't stop to wonder if it's okay as they slip beneath his shirt to pull him in. "Wannna fuck me again?" he asks, and is only mildly worried when Zach pulls back enough to look at him; and licks his pink lips.

"Yeah," he says, and the worry dissipates. He crowds back in, and this kiss is full of intent.

\---

Sober, it works.

There are awkward elbows and tentative queries about condoms, to which they both agree not to be irresponsible again; about preferences—Chris tends to like it face to face; Zach is enthusiastic. Happy to let Chris bottom too, which he prefers.

He's still a little sore, and that cools Zach' eagerness; mostly for breathless apologies pressed to hard nipples. Chris can feel the heat from his cheeks, although he's not sure if Zach's embarrassed or aroused.

"I wish I could remember it," Chris says truthfully, and he can feel Zach's lips stretch into a smile. And then he's moving down, trailing kisses toward his dick.

"You'll remember this," he promises before he takes Chris in his mouth.

And once a well-slicked finger pushes in, he knows he will. Savors the time Zach takes, opening him up and giving him pleasure before he even has to ask. And this too, brings memories to the edge of Chris' mind.

_Zach's fingers last night; less careful, but just as generous. Chris moaning as he pushed in higher. Until Chris begged for his cock._

"Need you," he breathes, just like he did then, from between clenched teeth while trying uselessly to hump Zach's fingers.

Zach laughs, clearly delighted. He pulls out and Chris, desperate to kiss him, tries to tug at his shoulder. Still grinning, Zach slides up his body, a warm weight that feels just right.

The friction is perfect too, Zach catching both of their dicks together and working them until Chris starts begging to be fucked. Smiling, Zach grips his thighs.

"Like this?" he asks, pushing his legs to his chest, gaze moving from Chris' face to his hole and back again. "Want me to fuck you just like this?"

Chris manages a frantic nod, his face flaming. And Zach, thank god, doesn't torment him any longer. He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, biting at his lip once his balls are nestled against Chris' ass.

Chris knows he won't forget this. Won't forget the way Zach watches him as he thrusts in and out with measured care, smiling at each gasp and moan. And when Chris scrabbles at the blanket, needing something to hold onto, Zach pushes one of his legs to the side, makes him open wide and then reaches for his hand.

It's slippery, and warm; Chris holds tight, lifts his hips for each thrust. When he's close, his legs shaking with exertion, Zach brings their tangled fingers to Chris' dick to stroke him together, and starts pounding into him.

"Oh my god," Chris breathes, clenches around Zach's dick and arches into the punishing thrusts. He comes hard, cum splattering his chest; a bit on his chin. Zach groans, and dips his head to lick at it, and then he's shooting too, dick pulsing deep in Chris' ass and he swears his orgasm lasts longer than usual.

He thinks he'll have bruises where Zach's nails are biting into his leg. He smiles at the thought, head hazy and muscles tingling pleasantly. "See?" he mumbles, finally taking note of the fact that Zach is nuzzling at his neck. "Everyone enjoyed that."

Zach's laughter huffs warm breath over his skin. "Glad to here it." He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the spot just beneath Chris' ear. "While sober and everything…"

Chris laughs too, wiggling a bit under Zach's weight. Zach smiles and pulls out carefully, getting rid of the condom before flopping face down on the pillow, head twisted so that they're practically nose to nose. "Definitely not going to forget that one," Chis tells him, smiling and reaching for his hand.

Zach squeezes, thumb sweeping back and forth. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you weren't straight."

"Hallmark doesn't make a card for bisexuals yet. And anyway, I knew you were gay."

"I told you about my ex-boyfriend," Zach laughs, entirely cheerful after sex, and Chris likes this new Zach a lot.

"Actually you told Zoe," he corrects, "and I just happened to be there."

Zach shrugs, shuffles closer. The kiss is lazy as his palm skims down Chris' side and over the swell of his ass. Intimate in a way that only happens after deep satisfaction. And when they break, they're both smiling. "So…" Zach prompts, thumb rounding one of Chris' knuckles.

"So," Chris agrees, finding the nervous tone endearing. "I probably should have mentioned I'm a serial monogamist..."

Zach's face lights up when he smiles. "Oh yeah?"

"Yep. But um…" Just in case it _does_ matter. "I haven't dated a guy in forever, so if that's a problem…"

"It's not a problem," Zach assures him. He kisses gently at the corners of Chris' mouth, makes it back to his lips for a deep kiss. "I'm more worried about Paramount, and the powers that be."

That actually is a legitimate concern. "I'll try to keep my hands off you at work, then," he says, shrugging. They'll worry about the logistics later. "You want to get a shower?"

"Hint or evasion technique?" Zach asks, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Request," Chris retorts. "I want to suck you off under the spray."

"Your estimation of my refractory period might be a little low," Zach says, still grinning. "But I'm willing to try. For science."

"Blowjobs for science," Chris agrees sagely. "Why else?"

Zach kisses him, and they end up tangled and gross, Chris' jizz squished between them. They're both laughing, which makes kisses sort of impossible. But it also makes them more fun.


End file.
